Every kind of hope was shattered,
Light was snatched away,
What kind of puppets were we,
To have our breaths stolen away?
We died back then didn't we?
When our dreams were scratched off.
Like some kind of invalid joke,
Like some kind of fictional joke.
But somewhere as we struggled for life,
We were preparing for what was to come,
To shine on the silver screen we knew,
We'll need to steal the shine in our eyes.
And throw it away in some kind of river,
Regret every moment where we came,
But having no way to escape this field,
We were prepared for what was to come.
YOU ARE READING
Our Violet Walls
PoetryBook #1 in the 'Coloured After Party' Poetry Series. 'Coloured After Party' is my second poetry series after my debut one known as 'If Only Happiness...' When everyone leaves, the night gets lonely with every passing minute. Keeping us in dilemma of...
